


Fractured Whole

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Works for Others [47]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Canon, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 20:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Gavin leaned forward on his arms, his frown deepening. “Well, what else are friends for? You clearly don’t seem to think it’s fucked up how they use you like a fuckin’ ‘droid or something. You’re a person, Connor. You’ve got rights.”Connor stiffened, biting down on his bottom lip. His stress levels ticked higher, a warning light flashing in the corner of his vision. There was a lot to process. A lot he didn’t want to process. He focused on the easiest part to digest, and echoed, “Friends?”Gavin raised a brow. “I dunno what else you’d call this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “It’s not like I come here just because you make a decent cup of coffee.”Set prior to the events of the game. Connor deviated two years early and has been surviving best he can by pretending to be human. He meets Detective Reed, a caffeine addict who always makes it a point to come by his coffee shop every morning for his daily latte, and, as it turns out, something more.





	Fractured Whole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gildedfrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/gifts).



> this is a fic i did for GildedFrost who requested a pre-canon au where connor deviated two years prior to the start of the game. he escaped cyberlife and assimilated best he could with humanity, taking odd jobs to masquerade as a human to survive. i hope you enjoy it, and thanks again to gildedfrost for the prompt!

The bell above the door rang, and Connor didn’t need to look up from his book to know who had come strolling in. The HUD display behind his eyes told him it was 6:05 exactly. He closed his book with a snap and smiled. Only one person ever came in this early in the day. 

“What can I get you today, Detective Reed?”

Detective Reed rolled his eyes as he approached the counter, already reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket to pull out his battered old wallet. Inside, Connor knew, were two credit cards, a debit card, a membership stub to a local sandwich shop (“They have the  _ best  _ Philly cheesesteaks outside of Philly, I fuckin’ swear!”), and the cafe rewards card already clicking down on the countertop just as it did every morning Gavin worked an early shift. The contents, the actions, the long suffering sigh falling past Gavin’s lips— It was as regular as breathing, and Connor looked forward to it more than anyone could possibly know.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to—”

“Call you Gavin?” Connor finished, already reaching for Gavin’s card to swipe it for his usual order. One large mocha with an extra shot of espresso. Normally $6.56, the total only came to $5.60 thanks to the rewards card he’d managed to talk Gavin into signing up for after his sixth visit. “I don’t know. At least a few times more.”

Gavin snorted and didn’t bother to fight it. “One of these days you’ll learn proper customer service.” He eyed Connor’s apron critically, chewing a little on his bottom lip. As Connor busied himself with steaming the milk and preparing the espresso machine, he noted how tired Gavin looked, how thick his stubble was becoming. Another hard case then. “So,” he went on, snapping Connor’s attention away from his observations. “How’s life behind the counter? They hire someone to help you out yet?”

Ah. This again. Connor shook his head. “I work very efficiently,” he said just as he always did. “There’s not really any need for another worker.”

Rolling his eyes, Gavin began to drum his fingers against the countertop. Evidence of caffeine withdrawal, Connor’s processors told him. He worked a little faster, and of course Gavin noticed. A frown marred his tired face. “You’re gonna work yourself to death if they don’t ease off you soon.”

Connor laughed, hitting the steam button and letting the machines do their work. “I believe the phrase is  _ the pot calling the kettle black.  _ You don’t need to worry about me, Detective. Your own work is much more strenuous.” 

“That’s not the point.” Gavin flinched a little when a machine beeped. Connor removed the milk and poured it into the waiting to-go cup. “We’re talkin’ about you right now, not me and my frankly super healthy lifestyle. Seriously, I’ll talk to your manager. ‘S not right that you’re in here to deal with the morning rush alone.”

He did this every morning he came in. Worried about Connor when it was clear to see he was wearing himself thin already. Something prickled along Connor’s skin, excess heat escaping in a sigh. If he knew the truth he probably wouldn’t worry. 

“It’s not as bad as you seem to think it is,” Connor said, finding deflection an easier topic than the truth. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Gavin leaned forward on his arms, his frown deepening. “Well, what else are friends for? You clearly don’t seem to think it’s fucked up how they use you like a fuckin’ ‘droid or something. You’re a person, Connor. You’ve got rights.”

Connor stiffened, biting down on his bottom lip. His stress levels ticked higher, a warning light flashing in the corner of his vision. There was a lot to process. A lot he didn’t  _ want  _ to process. He focused on the easiest part to digest, and echoed, “Friends?”

Gavin raised a brow. “I dunno what else you’d call this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “It’s not like I come here  _ just  _ because you make a decent cup of coffee.”

That… made Connor feel something.  _ Friends.  _ Connor couldn’t say he had many of them. He hadn’t let himself. In the weeks following his deviancy, survival had been his only concern. An expensive prototype wouldn’t be extended any niceties compared to the treatment of other deviant androids. He’d fled Cyberlife, rid himself of any outer marks of his android nature, and prayed that his disappearance would slip through the bureaucratic cracks of a company combating a spreading epidemic among its products. 

Logically, he knew it hadn’t. He knew there had been too much invested in him to let them accept that he was gone for good. Connor ran his fingers along the familiar wood of the bar, trying for a smile. He’d done his best to keep a low profile, only working low profile service jobs to keep his head down and his newfound life in order. He slowly looked up to meet Gavin’s eyes. Apparently all of that caution had still put him within proximity of a man capable of ruining it all. 

Somehow, the thought didn’t scare him the way it should have. He knew Gavin. He…  _ liked  _ Gavin. 

“Don’t friends see each other outside of work?” he mused, turning just as the espresso machine was about to signal the shots were ready. Damnit. He told himself he needed to stop timing things so precisely. It was bound to get him in trouble once someone realized a human couldn’t be accurate so consistently. He reached for the shots and the already prepared cup. “We can’t be very close friends if we only have conversations that last less than ten minutes, can we?”

Gavin leaned forward, crossing his arms on the counter. He always liked to watch this part of the process. His eyes stayed on the steaming beverage as he said, “You fishing for more, Arkay?”

There it was. That tone of his that implied some more than what his words did. Humans and their  _ tones.  _ So many suppositions rested in the most innocuous flick of the tongue. Connor poured the espresso shots into the base mixture and gave it a stir. When in doubt, he’d found it prudent to play along, and Gavin did make it so easy to do just that. “I suppose I’m not opposed to the idea,” he admitted, and really, he wasn’t. Gavin was handsome. He was funny in that coarse, rough-around-the-edges way of his. Connor set down the stir stick and slipped the lid and cardboard sleeve on the cup. “I don’t know if I’m capable of keeping up a conversation that extends past coffee bean variations and the pros and cons of specific types of milk foams though.” 

“Oh, well, in that case,” Gavin said, grinning wide and open in a way that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He took his cup in hand easily; Connor’s grip had gone lax in the wake of his reply. “Sounds like it’s a date.”

Date.  _ Date.  _ Time froze in the way it did when his system struggled to analyze what was in front of him. He’d been designed with forensics in mind, with being the most technologically capable android in terms of sheer processing power and investigative prowess. The word  _ date  _ computed. It just didn’t make sense.

The world lurched back into focus. Time resumed as before. Connor inhaled sharply and returned the smile, his internal processes a mess already. It did make sense in its own weird way. This was Gavin Reed, DPD detective and his most loyal customer. The one who flirted and poked fun at how he spoke or dressed, the one who made it his morning mission to get Connor to call him by his first name. The first person to call him  _ friend.  _ The first person to make him feel like it was real. 

“I guess it is,” he realized. Somehow it made sense that his first date would be with Gavin too. 

Gavin laughed and raised his to-go cup in a mock-toast. “I’ll drink to that. If you’re free Friday I can pick you up around seven. It’s the only fuckin’ day I have off this week.”

“Sounds perfect,” Connor said, because it really, really did. He blinked and noted the time. He smiled wider. “You’re going to be late to work.”

“What? Nah, I’ve got…” He paused to pull out his phone. The screen lit up and Gavin’s eyes went wide. “Fucking shit,” he muttered, shoving it back into his pocket. “You and your perfect timing as always. See you Friday, yeah?”

Connor nodded. “See you—”

Before he had time to finish, before he even had time to process it, Gavin leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to Connor’s cheek. Warm blossomed at the point of contact. Connor stuttered, froze, and suddenly felt intensely grateful he no longer had his external LED on his temple. It’d be spinning a violent sort of red right now otherwise, and the thought of Gavin seeing that of all things made him want to hide his face behind the nearest espresso machine. 

Before he could do it anyway, Gavin laughed and patted him on the cheek. “Cat got your tongue?”

Connor blushed and pushed him back onto his side of the counter. “Go to work, Gavin,” he said, knowing he was wearing a pout. “I’ll see you Friday!”

Gavin left the cafe laughing, waving as he went. The swagger in his step wasn’t just because of the coffee. Connor’s thirium pump stuttered and hiccuped. He covered his face with his hands and couldn’t bring himself to stop smiling, even as the bell above the door began to ring once more, signalling the true start to his work day.

He had a date Friday. A  _ date.  _ Him! 

For the first time since his deviancy, Connor felt he truly was just like everyone else. 

oOo

Dating Gavin was a crash course in humanity in the most chaotic, wonderful way possible, and Connor was terrified every minute he let himself enjoy it. Terrified because he was sure that something would happen, that something had to give. He couldn’t be this happy without there being a downside to it. Gavin couldn’t just hold his hand, kiss his cheek, walk with him around town as if they were… as if Connor was…

But he did.  _ They  _ did. They went to see movies where Gavin would hog the popcorn (not that Connor ever ate in front of the man), nudge him every few minutes, and whisper, “Did you  _ see  _ that?” They walked around parks and malls, visited ballparks and basketball courts. The kisses moved from Connor’s cheek to his lips. They grew longer, deeper. Connor’s thoughts were filled with Gavin when he wasn’t around. When he was, Connor realized he’d never been happier.

It wasn’t easy, being happy. Gavin asked questions about him, his past, his family. Things Connor didn’t have. He spent his long shifts at the cafe thinking of the details of a life he’d never lived. Connor told him he was new to the city, without family or many friends. He liked dogs, making coffee, and reading in his spare time. 

When it was possible, when he could get away with changing the topic, he asked Gavin about him instead. 

Gavin was Detroit born and raised, owner of a persnickety cat and a consumer of far too much caffeine to be healthy. He learned more about Gavin’s job, something he’d always been curious about. He’d researched Gavin on a whim early on in their acquaintanceship and learned that Gavin was a detective for the DPD, typically specializing in homicide related casework. He’d received his badge at a young age following exemplary—if unorthodox—service on the police force. It had sounded interesting at the time. 

Now, listening as he was to Gavin rant about the newfound stresses of deviancy-related investigations and the joint pressures on his department bearing down on him from both Cyberlife and the top brass, Connor had to think “interesting” was too innocuous a word for it. 

Today their date took place in a crowded pavillion in the center of town, close to Gavin’s workplace since he could only spare a short lunch hour away from his desk. His work schedule had grown all the more hectic in the wake of the added scramble to find the root cause of deviancy beginning to spring up in ordinary household android models. Connor tried not to think too hard about the  _ why  _ of it all and simply focused on enjoying Gavin’s company while he had it. 

“It’s just so fucking frustrating,” Gavin sighed, drowning his sorrow in the large coffee Connor had brought with him as a midday caffeine boost he knew Gavin was in sore need of. He ran his hand through the back of his hair, making the thick locks stick up a little in a way that made him look a bit silly. “We’re understaffed as it is, but running us all into the ground trying to compensate for it won’t solve our cases any faster.”

Connor managed a smile. He leaned forward, fixing Gavin’s hair with a few gentle swipes of his fingers. “Is there no way for them to ask for outside help? Perhaps transferring some more officers from another precinct?” His smile faltered when he considered what he was giving advice for. He drew back his hand and looked at the table. “I’m worried about you, Gavin. This isn’t healthy.”

Gavin let out a harsh sigh and covered Connor’s hand with his own. He held it gently, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand in soothing, warm passes. “There’s not much else that can be done about it. Every precinct in the area’s as bogged down as we are.” When Connor lifted his head, he saw Gavin’s smile was rueful. “Sucks that it’s made you have to come all the way downtown just to see my ugly mug, huh?”

The smile came regardless of his misgivings. Connor even managed a laugh. He gently shifted his hand in Gavin’s lacing their fingers together to clasp them together loosely. “It’s not so bad,” he figured, looking around at the bustling pavillion full of people enjoying their lunches and shopping. “It’s nice to get out of the cafe every now and again.”

“Mmm. Can’t say I hate having some of your handiwork hand delivered either.” Gavin took another swig from his cup, smacking his lips in enjoyment. He gave Connor’s hand a squeeze as he put down the empty cup, a tired grin on his handsome, haggard face. “Would it have killed you to keep the apron on? I kinda miss it.”

Connor rolled his eyes and slowly extracted his hand. Gavin was nothing if not himself, and that was persistent. The topic of sex was only starting to arise between them. He’d known for awhile now that Gavin was interested and had been for quite some time. It read in the dilation of his pupils when they were together, in the increases respiration during their kisses. Connor turned his attention to the fountain off to the side, focusing on the sound of dancing, bubbling water. 

It was a common thing for couples to engage in sexual intercourse, even in casual affairs such as theirs. Common, yet terrifying. He was an android masquerading as anything but. Nothing was simple because of that. He couldn’t just fall into bed with Gavin and expect things to work out in the end. He hadn’t been built to have sex. Regardless of his desires, it was a risk he couldn’t bring himself to take. 

“I brought you the coffee to get your blood pumping again,” he murmured, watching a little girl throw pennies into the fountain. A group of laughing women emerged from a store, their arms weighed down with bags of clothing. A figure in a hood stepped to the side to let them pass before slipping into the store once they were away from the door. Connor looked at Gavin and smiled a little. “I wouldn’t want to spoil you with more.”

“Oh, come on,” Gavin groaned, propping his elbow on the table to drop his head onto his hand. “They’re running me ragged at the station and you won’t even let me ogle a little? How about this: come over tonight. Bring the apron, make it up to me.”

Great. There it was. “To your home?” He’d never been there before. Neither of them had been to the other’s home yet. 

“Well, yeah.” Gavin’s smile turned heated. “I think giving the public a show like that might get us both arrested.”

There was no doubt now to what he had in mind. Connor fought to stay composed. “Do you really think that’s the best idea right now?” He wanted Gavin. He wanted to be with him. He’d never quite understood the concept of Hell until this moment. He folded his hands in his lap and sat up straight. “You’re barely sleeping as it is, Gavin. You should focus on resting as much as you can until your workload lessens.”

Gavin’s lips twisted into something that looked caught between a frown and a grimace. “I know, but—”

The sound of screaming ripped apart their focus, and as one they both turned towards the source of the noise. Gavin frowned, but Connor froze, processing the scream before any human could.

“Gun!”

The crack of a gunshot followed half a second later. 

Time slowed down like it had when Gavin first uttered the words that led to them sitting here together today, only this time the cause was much less gentle. The trajectory of the bullet was easy to calculate. In the time it would take to blink, the bullet would enter Gavin’s chest and penetrate at an angle that would take it directly to his heart. There wouldn’t be time to call an ambulance; he would die, and Connor would watch it happen.

Potential courses of action rose up next. The bullet approached the point of no return, crawling closer and closer— Connor analyzed his choices. He could move three inches and take the bullet into his own chest. He could kick at Gavin’s chair and potentially move him enough to place the bullet somewhere in his shoulder, allowing it to miss his heart— No, no, he erased that option. Too much risk. No guarantee it would result in a superficial wound. 

Warning lights flashed like lightning behind his eyes. The bullet was almost too close now to act. 

Save Gavin. Expose himself.

Let Gavin die. Preserve his secret. Survive. 

When it came down to it, he supposed the decision was really that simple. 

Connor closed his eyes and let stasis wash away the warning lights with soft, eternal black. 

It was fine. The charade had to end sometime. 

oOo

The process of rebooting after a forced shutdown was arduous. Synthetic synapses fired, flicking life into limbs unable to move. Connor wasn’t aware right away, wasn’t truly alive just yet. Awareness would come in a few minutes time.

And it did come. In bits and pieces it came, first auditory in nature and then mobility. Visual processors were the last to come back online. When they did, Connor blinked, unsure if what he saw in front of him was real or just the answer to one of life’s most unanswerable questions.

Then again, he doubted Gavin would look this tired if they were both dead. 

Curiosity prickled his slow-to-awaken limbs. His eyes flicked to and fro, his neck twitching as he struggled to turn his head. He was in an apartment he didn’t recognize and on a couch piled high with pillows and throws. The apartment was a nice one, homey but with the sort of cleanliness about it that suggested the owner wasn’t home often enough to make it look truly lived in. Gavin, the ostensible owner, was slumped over in an armchair and were it not for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, Connor might have thought him dead and not simply dead-asleep. 

The cold, clinical white of Cyberlife’s labs were nowhere to be seen. Odd. Accessing his memory banks told Connor that he had been caught, his secret discovered. Surely Gavin would have reported him, taken him back to Cyberlife for decommissioning and analysis— 

An odd stuttering in his thirium pump sent a low level alert across his vision. Connor sucked in a breath of air to cool his internal processors. The thought of Gavin doing that was painful. He put it from his mind and blinked, swallowing dryly when he saw that Gavin was stirring in the chair opposite him. He considered fleeing, but threw the idea out when he realized he hadn’t quite regained control over his extremities yet. The bullet had entered his chest and a diagnostics report told him he’d sustained damage to his thirium pump and excessive thirium loss. Measures had been taken to repair the damage. Even so, he could tell he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. 

Gavin’s eyes opened and Connor knew it was too late to matter. 

“Hello, Gavin,” he whispered. This must be his home. He inhaled shakily. “I’m sorry.”

There came no reply. Gavin blinked a few times, looking more tired than he had in a very long time. He kneaded at his eyes and sat up properly in his chair. Around him were the remains of thirium pouches, all drained of their contents and littering the floor like refuse. Gavin lowered his hand and nudged one of them with his foot. He lifted his head. He looked at Connor’s chest. 

Connor looked down, following his line of sight. His shirt had been cut open and his skin had retracted around the gunshot wound, the clear, shiny white cracked with blue spiderwebs that contained traces of thirium. His internal mechanics were already at work repairing some of the damage. The remains of his clothing were steeped in thirium. He must have bleed profusely before compensating once his servers rebooted. 

“Are you okay?” Gavin finally said, breaking the silence with a voice that croaked hoarsely. 

Connor turned to face him once more. “More or less.” He’d need a replacement part to become fully operational again, but for the moment he was stable. “Did you stabilize me?”

Gavin gave a shrug. “Figured that was obvious.” He rubbed at his stubbled chin, looking at the floor, the couch, and then finally at Connor. “I guess this is why you never shared the popcorn with me, huh.”

It was a struggle to breathe, even though every diagnostic test Connor ran told him he was fully capable of the function. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, because he didn’t know what else he could say. 

“You’re a deviant.”

There was no point in lying. He already knew. Connor looked at the ceiling and whispered, “Yes.”

“How?”

How? Connor wasn’t sure how. “I don’t remember,” he said, too scared to turn his head. “I woke up in a lab. I knew I didn’t want to be there. I ran.” He hid. He built a life, found a job, fell in love— “What happened? Who fired the gun?”

No protest followed the change in topic. “It was just some fuckhead trying to hold up the store,” Gavin muttered, grimacing at the floor between his feet. “The clerk wasn’t cooperating, the burglar was twitchy. He figured he’d prove his sincerity and sent off a warning shot but didn’t fuckin’ think about the fact that you can’t just fire off a gun and expect the bullet to disappear once it leaves your line of sight.” He sighed and dragged his hands down his face, kneading tiredly at his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked Connor in the eyes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. 

“What is it?” Connor whispered.

“They sent a forensics ‘droid out to take photos of the scene,” Gavin said slowly, voice haggard. “They calculated the angle of the bullet he shot off, compared it to the CCTV cameras in the pavillion.”

It was Connor’s turn to swallow and look at the floor. He knew what Gavin was getting at. He’d probably watched the video. He knew. 

“You saved my life.” The chair squeaked as Gavin stood up and knelt beside the couch. His hand cupped Connor’s chin, tilting his head up until they were looking at one another again. “You knew where it’d hit, and you still took that bullet for me.”

Connor wanted to argue. He wanted to deny it, to brush it off. The words were on his tongue. He opened his mouth, but just like the trajectory of the bullet, he knew where this was going before it hit him. He sucked in a breath as Gavin pressed his lips to his. The scratch of Gavin’s stubble tickled his sensors. The warmth of his breath sent off subtle alerts that lit up his field of vision with flecks of light only he could see. Connor leaned into it. Gavin let him. 

When they broke apart, Connor struggled to open his eyes for fear of it all disappearing again in a burst of light and the crack of gunfire. Gavin seemed to know it too. He kept his forehead pressed against Connor’s, his hand stroking his cheek errantly. 

“God, I thought you’d died. You were so pale, and then you just… just started gushing blue.” Gavin let out a shaky sigh. “I barely thought about why that was. I just grabbed you and moved.”

Connor could see it even though it was impossible to reconstruct exactly how it must have been. Gavin’s pale face, the screaming of the crowd around them. How he must have struggled to make sense of it all while also taking control of things as a trained officer of the law would do. He must have used his authority to take them from there without raising suspicions. 

He must have implicated himself thoroughly in Connor’s crimes. If anyone were to find out and link the two of them… 

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered. 

“What for?”

His lips trembled. “For not telling you.” For putting them both in so much danger. For thinking he could have this when it was never meant to be— 

“Hey, hey, it’s not like I don’t understand.” Gavin pulled back and Connor opened his eyes in a flash, hand darting up to grab Gavin’s before it could fall away too. Gavin flinched at the speed of his movements, but relaxed quickly. He let Connor take his hand. His smile was wry, tired. “You did what you had to do. It’s… survival. I see it every day. It’s hard not to respect that.”

“I thought about letting it hit you.” His eyes roved over Gavin’s chest, so certain he’d see red stains bleed through the fabric of his tight t-shirt if he looked hard enough. Survival. Was it worth it if he had to watch someone else die to maintain his own  _ survival?  _ Connor struggled to breathe, to cool his internal processors. “I… I thought… Y-You could have  _ died,  _ Gavin.”

“But I didn’t. And you didn’t.” Gavin squeezed Connor’s hand. “It’s… I’m not gonna lie, it’s fucking fucked that you’re an android. Hell, I thought you were just the cute barista down the street. My fucking  _ boyfriend  _ is an android.” His eyes lowered, perspiration beading his forehead. “I didn’t know. I had  _ no  _ idea, and I’m still struggling to figure out how I’m going to explain the shit I pulled today covering for you and bringing you back here.”

Slowly, he looked at Connor. “But we’re alive. You’re alive, Connor, and you nearly threw that away to keep me alive.”

Connor couldn’t help it. He leaned in and kissed Gavin again. His lips trembled when he did, diluted thirium rolling down his cheeks like makeshift tears. Gavin kissed him back, guiding it into something that wasn’t as shattered as Connor felt. He knotted his fingers in Gavin’s shirt and held on tight, scared of how it might feel if he let go.

“You won’t send me back?” he asked, because he had to. He had to know if he were safe. He looked into Gavin’s eyes. “You won’t let them decommission me?”

For a third and final time, time itself slowed to a crawl. Connor took count of every single aspect of Gavin’s face, cataloguing it and sealing it away into his memory banks for fear of it being the last time he’d ever see it. The carefully structured life he’d spent the past two years building from nothing threatened to crash down around him. If it was the last time, he needed to savor it. 

But then Gavin’s mouth twitched, and time rushed back in with sight and sound and perception like the crashing of a wave, like the snuffing of a candle. 

“I finally got you to come home with me,” Gavin said, stroking his thumb over Connor’s cheekbone. “It’d be a shame to ruin it by letting you go like that, right?”

Connor smiled a shaky, hopeful smile, and surrendered easily to the kiss that followed Gavin’s teasing, iron-clad words. It wouldn’t be easy, taking this route. It wouldn’t be without it’s dangers, both to Connor’s autonomy and Gavin’s position at the DPD. But Gavin’s kisses were warm, and his hand a strong guide to keep Connor above the flood waters licking at his heels. He wouldn’t falter like this. He couldn’t. 

Perhaps he still had a life to go back to after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed it, and if you did please consider leaving a comment to let me know! check me out on twitter @tdcloud_writes for more dbh funtimes and if youre at all interested in taking a look at my original under the name T.D. Cloud! as always, until next time!


End file.
